


AOP

by bottledbliss



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Short One Shot, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 10:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18754837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottledbliss/pseuds/bottledbliss
Summary: A brief discussion about names reveals more than Karen had expected.





	AOP

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mug_nificent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mug_nificent/gifts).



> This can be read as a kind of sequel to [Walking Back Home In The Mud](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17912645/chapters/42291425) but it's fine on its own too.  
> I couldn't stop thinking about it since UnitedKingdomOrgy's comment. So here it is. For anybody who wants to read it.

A peculiar smell drifts in through the open windows- dewberry. It’s sweet and light and totally out of place. She shouldn’t be able to smell it at all, not with the overpowering stench of fresh paint burning her nostrils. She hasn’t caught a sniff of it since Vermont, except maybe in some perfume shop at one point or another, but artificial smells are different. They don’t have the same time traveling abilities, the power of launching you back into your childhood bedroom like you never left. It makes her think of her mother, how much she misses her and how she’d love to have her here, to help with the alien being that she’s growing inside her, just under her heart.

“Frank,” she shouts and hears him promptly stomp down the stairs. “Can you smell that?”

“Can’t smell anything but the goddamn paint. I left the windows open, hope it helps,” he grumbles. “What is it? Something burning?”

“No, nothing like that.” She eases herself down onto the couch and twists just enough to stretch her legs on it as well. Movement is becoming increasingly difficult these days, as her belly keeps expanding. “Maybe I imagined it,” she shrugs.

“Like the garlic bread last week?” Frank chuckles. He gently grips her ankles, lifts up her legs and sits down beside her, as he grabs a throw pillow to place on his lap, under her feet. “Gotta keep them elevated,” he reminds her and starts giving her feet a much needed massage, smiling when she lets out a moan. He looks a bit silly with the mint green smudges on his face, on his clothes -all over him actually. Silly and laid-back and gorgeous. The past month has taught her she shouldn’t even try to bend forward, but if she could, she would be kissing him right now.

“You don’t know how good this feels,” Karen purrs before getting down to business. “So, are you finished painting the nursery? I want to have the crib set up by the end of the week. The changing table too and it wouldn’t hurt to have some drawers in there and-”

“Slow down,” Frank says, his thumb kneading the arch of her left foot as she wiggles her toes. “I’ll set up everything, stop being so stressed. You didn’t take the week off so you could nag me the whole time, did you?”

Karen gives him a snort full of disapproval. “I don’t nag.”

He raises one eyebrow and cocks his head, lips curling into an amused smile. “Baby, you nag.”

She kicks his hand away playfully while trying to hide her own smile. “If I do, it’s because this little hell spawn of yours is giving me a hard time,” she huffs and places a protective hand on her belly. “Would it kill you to sit still for one moment?” she addresses the baby and then turns to Frank. “I could swear it already hates me.”

“Might be because you’re still calling it ‘it’,” he says, running his palm over her leg.

“It’s mine, I’ll call it what I like,” she tells him.

Frank leans to the side, lowering his head towards her stomach and rubbing his cheek against it. “What are you doing in there that’s got her so mad, kid?” he says in a low voice, like he and the baby are having a private conversation, and then jolts up, surprised. “Christ, that was one mean kick!”   

“No kidding.” Karen exhales slowly. “I’ve developed this theory that the baby is actually trying to kick its way out of me. And at this rate, it will probably succeed.”

He places a tender hand over hers, worry obvious in his eyes. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really, but I’m not enjoying it either.” She hisses as the imprint of a tiny foot appears, pushing against the stretched flesh of her belly. She’s about to start telling the kid off, when she notices Frank’s hypnotized stare. Without saying a word, she takes his hand and presses it down, hoping her estimation of the baby’s next target is correct. “There,” she says when the kick lands. “You felt that, right?”

“Yeah,” he gives her a teary-eyed look. “Yeah, I felt it.”

Her fingers wrap around his in an affectionate squeeze as he pretends to examine the living room walls. “You’ve already painted those,” Karen remarks kindly.

Not bothering to deny he got caught, Frank lets out a quiet, soft laugh. “Can’t hide from you, can I?” He continues rubbing her leg lazily, his eyes rolling to the side as he tries either to recall something or avoid her gaze.

“Frank.”

“Hmm?”

“What did you do?”

When he turns to her, he’s holding a breath that he lets out slowly, very slowly, buying time for himself. “What makes you think I did anything?” he says finally. It’s just a game they play. He likes to tease her but he always spills the beans without much effort from her part. Karen’s brow shoots up and he knows that he shouldn’t drag it out this time. “I may or may not have called your doctor while you were in the bathroom earlier.”

“Frank, come on,” she whines. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“And it will be, for you,” he assures her. Her disbelieving glare makes him want to laugh, but he manages to stifle it. “You don’t trust me to keep my mouth shut? I will, cross my heart and all that.”

Karen moves forward with a grunt and slaps his arm. “Why couldn’t you wait?”

“Because I hate surprises, you know,” he says. “And I was thinking about that form you showed me the other day. Child’s name goes on top. We haven’t even started talking about names yet. What are we going to tell the notary public? Give us a week to decide?”

“I have half a mind to call it Matthew even if it’s a girl, just to annoy you,” she grumbles and Frank roars with laughter.

“Don’t you dare.” He grabs her hand and brings it to his lips.

“Matthew David has a nice ring to it too,” she smirks.

“You wouldn’t be that cruel to the father of your child,” he says before kissing her palm and placing it on his cheek. “I’ll be good from now on, I swear.”

The baby delivers a little pop of a kick, as though asking her to take pity on daddy, and Karen rubs the stubbly cheek under her palm. “I could do worse but I’m going to let this one slide. It seems that you two are teaming up against me.”

“It,” he stresses the word, “knows what’s right.”  

“Oh, getting cocky, are we?” She leans closer to her belly and casts him a smile that is all threat, as she whispers to the baby. “Are you comfortable in there, Matthew David?” Frank raises his hands in surrender and the baby stays suspiciously still. She counts that as a win. “Both are good names though.”

“No way in hell,” he laughs again. “I can’t handle more than one David and one Matthew in our life. We’re covered on that front.”

“So it’s a boy,” Karen exclaims. She expected to be a bit disappointed at finding out now instead of later, but she really isn’t. A little nervous, maybe, because she doesn’t know the first thing about raising a boy. But also excited.

“Didn’t say that,” Frank cuts her excitement short.

“A girl?” She realizes she doesn’t know the first thing about raising a girl either. What was she thinking, that she would magically have all the insight necessary to bring up a person, simply because they happened to be of the same gender? Frank presses his lips together in response, refusing to give up the secret. “That’s not fair,” Karen frowns.

“I thought you didn’t want to know,” he quirks an eyebrow. “If you’ve changed your mind…”

“I haven’t,” says Karen and turns her head away, pouting in mock annoyance.

“Okay then.”

Placing an arm behind her knees, Frank lifts up her legs and gets up, setting the pillow on a different angle, making sure the position is up to his standards before gently laying her feet on it. As he stands there rubbing the back of his neck, Karen follows his gaze across the room, to the kitchen table where the printed AOP form lies. She wonders if the same thing that bothers her, bothers him too. “Have you thought of any names?” she asks.

“Don’t expect anything creative from me,” he chuckles, distracted momentarily. “Jane and John are the first names that came to mind.”

“Jane Castiglione,” she says, inclining her head to the side as though seriously considering it. “It doesn’t sound bad.”

“It sounds terrible. Same goes for John Castiglione,” he replies as he bends down to kiss her forehead. “We could go with Penelope, if it’s a girl. If you…”

Karen reaches up to stroke his cheek. “It’s very sweet of you to suggest it, but as much as I loved my mom, I don’t want to force that name on a child. It’s not very… us, don’t you think?” Her eyes widen, sparkling with an idea. “What about your mom’s name?”

“Louisa? You like that?”

Yes, she really does and the more she thinks about it, the more fitting it seems. “Louisa Castiglione. Yeah, I like it. Do you? Or is it too much like…”

“A little bit,” Frank admits with a tightness in his tone. “We have time to come up with something. No rush.”

Karen nods. “And if it’s a boy?”

He hesitates for a split second, maybe even less than that, looking confused, which tells Karen a lot more than he’d planned. “Uh, I don’t know,” he replies. “We agree that both Paxton and Mario are shit names, right?”

“Oh, definitely.” A bright smile starts forming on her lips, as something like joy stirs in her stomach, prompting the baby to begin moving again as well. Joy, she thinks and puts the name down in the mental list of potential names for their daughter. “But we won’t be needing any boys’ names, I take it?”

Frank throws his hands up and then cradles her face in them, leaning in to kiss her. “How the hell do you do that?”

“You’re too easy to read, Castle,” Karen giggles and throws her arm over the back of the couch, slanting backwards. “A little girl, huh?”

“Yeah,” he beams at her, taking a deep breath.

“Well, I hope she likes green because that room isn’t getting repainted for a long time.”

“Eh, I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again, if she doesn’t like it,” Frank tells her, eyes narrowed with a smile.

Great, Karen thinks, the kid isn’t even out yet and he’s already set on spoiling her. “Jane Castiglione is really not a bad name.” Frank pulls a seriously displeased face. “Is it the Castiglione part that bothers you?”

“No, why would it? I’ll sign the paper as Pete Castiglione and I’ll be proud to do it. But it bothers you.”

“Just a tiny little bit,” she confesses.

“It’s just a name, Karen.” He shrugs and his eyes gleam with mischief. “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

“You know, continuing to quote Shakespeare in spite of me asking you to stop, is grounds for divorce,” Karen says, tapping her finger on the couch while holding his gaze.

“You’ll have to marry me before you can file for divorce,” he chuckles as he makes his way towards the stairs, probably going to add some finishing touches to the nursery before jumping in the shower.

“Well, you haven’t asked me yet.”

Frank freezes in his tracks and for a moment, Karen considers if that’s too much pressure for him. There’s no reason why it should be; they’ve been living together for some time, they’re expecting a baby, for god’s sake, and while she doesn’t need a ring on her finger to feel secure in her relationship, she’s going to smack him if he freaks out on her. When he turns around to face her, his features are soft and calm and Karen is glad that she doesn’t have to resort to violence, especially because she’d have to get up to do it. “I will,” he tells her simply and goes off to finish his chores.

Frank planted two large rose bushes in the flower beds of their front yard just last week, but despite their size, they haven’t made their presence known until now, as a mild breeze carries their scent inside the house and spreads it around the living room. Karen inhales deeply, not letting the smell drag her back to the past, but have her glimpse into the future instead. She knows enough about genetics to understand the chances of the kid looking like her are slim, but she’s perfectly okay with that. The only flaw she can imagine in a child that looks like Frank is that she’ll have two sets of those dark, puppy eyes melting her heart. “I won’t allow you to be spoiled, you hear me?” she speaks softly, rubbing her belly. ‘Your father will be a constant foil to my plans, but you’re not going to become some obnoxious brat that nobody likes. And you’d better love mint green, we’re done with painting for at least five years. Well, maybe if you’d like a bit of yellow, I’d consider it. I don’t know, stop being so spoiled already,” she smiles as her daughter finally settles down to sleep.  


End file.
